Page 89 of Seer Prophet

Remembering the night before brought a liquid coil of pain, enough to close my eyes, to cut my breath. Images flickered there. I remembered his fingers in my hair, his hand gripping me against him as I gave him head. He’d still been wearing most of that damned suit. He’d talked through most of it. He talked a lot.

He made demands mostly.

We ended that first session with his arms around me from behind, his hands wrapped around my thighs as he leaned his whole weight into me, forcing me into the mattress, forcing my legs as wide as he could.

Something about when he did that, when he put all of his weight on me, all his light in me, going as deep as he could, his face pressed to mine from behind?

Pain blinded me a second time as I remembered what he’d done with his light.

My eyes closed. Myaleimisnaked around the room, looking for his.

He definitely wasn’t there.

It wasn’t the first time I’d woken up in here in pain, with him gone. It was, without a doubt, the first time I’d woken up in here chained to the wall.

Still biting back separation pain, I looked around until my eyes settled on the smallish metal table to the left of the mattress. On it lay a headset earpiece?not mine?and what looked like a handwritten note.

Even from where I was lying, I recognized the precise, all-caps print.

Twisting my body around, I stretched over to that side of the bed, my wrist still bolted to the wall. I reached my fingers towards the note with my free hand, and managed to snatch it up from where he had it propped up against the lamp.

I pulled it, one handed, to my eyes.

Getting breakfast. Wall monitor is up if you’re bored.

Staring at the handwriting I now recognized even more clearly, even down to his quirky p’s and b’s, which bordered on cursive, maybe even calligraphy, I felt my disbelief shift into a more complex array of reactions, most of which lived and warred between puzzlement, involuntary amusement, irritation, and outrage.

Looking over my shoulder, I yanked on the cuff a few more times.

When I got too close to the mechanism again with my light, it shocked me.

I stretched back over to the small night table.

Picking up the headset carefully with my fingers, I fitted it around the outside of my ear, flicking it on with a voice command and sending an impulse without waiting for it to queue up.

After what felt like a very long pause, he picked up.

Even before he had, my pain worsened, making me grit my teeth.

“Dehgoies,” he said.

His voice sounded deep, with that distinct German accent.

I couldn’t feel his light. I very clearly heard the humor in his voice, however.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked. “…Husband?”

I heard his smile widen. “I’m getting us food.”

Pausing at my silence, he cleared his throat.

“We’re meeting to talk about Dubai at two. I set it up with Balidor. I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t. He was nominally in charge of military functions anyway, and this definitely fell into extraction territory.

“What time is it now?” I asked.

“Ten.”

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